Provocation
by Your Sweet Escape
Summary: Sam's got a clue. Dean only thinks he does. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer. Why do I keep typing that? I'd think it would be obvious by now.**

**This is kind of another expieriment. What do you think? More? Less? Feel free to bash or love. But let me know.**

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**Layla's nose wrinkled in disgust as the scent of alcohol greeted her. Her frown deepened. This place wasn't for her. The roadhouse catered strictly to hunters, and if she brought too much attention to herself she would be killed. At least, her murder would be attempted. 

What was she doing here anyway? It was obvious she didn't belong. How had she come to this?

"You comin'?" a tall, muscular man asked her. Not waiting for an answer, he strode into the bar and gulped down the beer that was placed in front of him.

She sighed. Oh yeah. That's why she was here. Following the man, she found a seat and sank down into it.

"What can I get you?" a blonde waitress, too busy eyeing her companion, asked with no real enthusiasm.

"Nothing." Her response was cold.

The girl seemed to snap out of her fixation long enough to stare at her. "You're with Dean, and you don't drink?" She stared a moment longer before turning to the man. "Dean, who is this girl?"

Dean looked up from his drink. "Jo, meet Layla. Layla, meet Jo. Layla's hitching a ride with me and Sammy for a few miles."

"Ah." Jo scrutinized her a bit more until finally moving on to the other guzzling occupants.

"Jealous very often?" Layla mumbled after the girl had gone.

"Layla," Dean sighed into his drink, "Can you relax for five seconds. You know, blend in? We'll only be here a few hours, so try not to draw much attention to yourself?"

"Why bother?" Layla glanced at the blonde at the same moment the blonde glanced at her, "She's already suspicious. And it looks like she's trying to persuade the others to be the same."

"Humor me?"

Layla crossed her arms, "No."

"Sam will be here soon, and then we can go. Just, please, stay below the radar."

Rolling her eyes, she began tearing a napkin into thin strips. "Fine. But don't expect me to behave if it's more than a few hours or some other distraction comes up." She glanced at the blonde to make her point.

"Deal." Dean grinned, "I'll be back in a second." He left the counter in the direction of an old pool table.

She watched him disappear into the crowd. "Idiot," she mumbled. No doubt he would be drunk and accompanied by a strange woman the next time she saw him. Swiveling around on her stool, Layla leaned back against the counter and watched the hunters passing in front of her.

Inexperience colored the air. Everyone here was slowly drowning in a nonexistent cause and they didn't even know it. She doubted if a single one had come up against a _real _demon. A demon that could do more than possess, or one that didn't even rely on possession. It seemed as though this place was a haven for failure. Pathetic.

Layla had been around for over two hundred years. She was born in seventeen eighty-nine, well not born. Demons were created, and she had been created as death personified. She grinned at the though of the terror her gifts had caused over the years.

"What can I get you?" The girl's chipper voice shot through her memories.

"Nothing now. Thanks." Someone had sat in the empty seat beside her the voice was familiar, but at the same time not.

"I guess there's a trend," she muttered. "Dean's over there." Shaking her head she left.

The man chuckled under his breath.

Layla settled deeper into her seat. He was a hunter. A _great _hunter. She could sense it. Turning her head just enough to see out of the corner of her eye, she was surprised at what she found. He was dressed in a beige jacket, button up shirt, and clean-whole- jeans. It seemed like the life of a hunter had yet to take its toll.

"Poor Jo," he stated catching Layla's glance. "She doesn't seem to get that Dean's just not into her, but she never seemed like the jealous type."

"Excuse me?" Malice asked.

"I'm Sam. Probably the excuse Dean used to bring you here."

Oh. The brother. "So Dean won't give her the time?"

Sam laughed. "Not really. He's terrified of her mom."

Layla's quiet laugh joined his, and the girl turned around to glare.

"So what's Dean doing hustling pool when you were supposed to be waiting for me?"

"He thought you wouldn't be here for a few hours."

"The research didn't take as long as I thought."

"What were you researching?"

"All the sudden deaths off the coast. I was hoping to find a link or something that could tell us what's killing them, but no such luck."

"Tragic," Layla slid off her stool, "Why don't you get your brother and meet me outside?" Barely hearing his reply, she practically ran out the door.

The cool air was perfect. She breathed in deep lung fulls to rid herself of the smell of the bar, and after a few seconds she moved to Dean's car. The doors of the amazing sixty-seven impala creaked ever so slightly when opened. Layla sank into the leather seat and shut her eyes.

Her sister would love this car. Resting her head back against the seat, she sighed. Layla had been trying to find her twin for the last month. The had been separated on a boat going from Europe to America. The two had gotten into a heated argument, and their energy had caused the ship to collapse. But, she knew her sister was in America, and close. She just didn't know where exactly.

Dean had found her just a few hours ago. He had tried to pass himself off as a normal guy just looking to help a girl in distress, and she had easily accepted the damsel in distress character. But, after they both had let a few things slip, she had called him on his bluff and admitted a few of her lesser powers. What he didn't know was that he would have his hands full with her and her sister. They were each incredibly powerful alone, but once untied they were unstoppable. His brother wasn't going to be much help either.

"I still don't understand why we're taking her with us. You don't know the first thing about her." Sam told Dean as the two walked toward the car. Layla was about to yell at their volume, but the next sentence made her stop.

"I can't kill them by myself." Dean's voice wobbled slightly. Sam had shown up before he could get good and drunk.

"Them?"

"The girl and her sister."

"Sister?" Sam stopped walking.

"I mean, one witch is enough, but you've seen families. Crazy."

"Witch?" One-liners seemed to be Sam's specialty.

"Yes," Dean sighed, "She's a witch. Her sister is a witch. Haven't you heard?" He started walking again.

"Witch? But I was sure-"

Now Layla interrupted, "Are you boys coming, or do I need to start walking?"

"Keep your pants on," Dean said moving into the driver's seat. Layla moved to the back and Sam slid into the passenger's side.

"Where are we going exactly?" Sam asked.

"To the coast, my good brother." Dean was giddy with the speed of the car.

"Why?"

"Because I believe my sister is there."

She saw Sam's muscles tense at the sound of her voice. He was scared of her. Good.

"Our newest gig, too." Dean sped down the road.

Layla suppressed a laugh. The murders were the hint of her sister's whereabouts. Lyra always killed when she was upset. Suddenly, she felt someone staring at her. She looked up and caught Sam's eyes in the rearview mirror. She smiled wickedly. _This is where the panic should set in. _

Sam scowled, but Layla's thoughts were already on the scenery. The way Dean drove it wouldn't be long now.


End file.
